Greetings From the Shrine
by Aoife-hime
Summary: Oneshot stories based on the challenge of the week from Tsukimine Shrine. Ratings depend on story.
1. Rain

Alrighty, these are just a bunch of one-shots that I am writing to keep my brain occupied (I suck at focusing on one idea for extended periods of time, therefore one-shots provide great relief for me). These stories are all in response to a challenge at the Tsukimine Shrine. The goal is to write a story corresponding with each of the 52 cards, but the story doesn't have to actually be about the card... yadah yadah yadah. I know a few other people are also posting stuff on for this challenge, too.

All my stories will have at least a loose affiliation with one of the cards, though the word may not be taken in its original sense, if that makes any sense to you (ie "dash" could be taken as moving quickly, or like a cooking term (a dash of pepper)). I'm posting them in the order they come to me.

**That Night in the Rain**

"Did you know that the ancients of South America used to collect the rain that gathered in the leaves of the poisonous dog trees - " I managed before I felt the familiar warmth of a lady's hands around my neck. As my head shook back and forth, rather violently I might add, I could distinctly make out the angelic raised voice of a certain girl.

"Yamazaki Takashi! When will the lies stop!" she cried while continuing to wring my humble neck. Though I couldn't see it, I could tell the others who normally joined us for lunch were glancing at us nervously.

"Uh, Chiharu-chan? I think he's turning blue," pointed out one of the girls, probably Naoko-chan judging from her voice. I felt the warmth disappear from around my neck and gradually my vision stopped spinning around. Chiharu was scolding me again, since she couldn't actually strangle me with all these witnesses around. I tuned out her words though. You see, I've already memorized them. She gives me the same speeches every time, but honestly I don't mind. Just hearing her voice is enough for me, especially when there's the echo of rain dancing across the school roof in the background as there is today.

----------

I was so wet I could probably have been mistaken for a drowned rat. My yellow baseball cap was soaked completely through, along with my windbreaker and my pants. Worst of all, my new white sneakers were getting covered in the spring mud. I could feel my socks squelch unpleasantly whenever I wriggled my toes. My head felt stuffy, but I knew I wasn't getting a cold. The rain from the sky mixed with my own fat, salty tears that had been pouring from my eyes for… well, ages I suppose. It seemed as if I had been crying since I could talk.

It was getting darker outside, and some of the street lamps started turning on like small orange suns as I passed beneath them. Trudging along slowly, I completely missed that I was walking right next to a park.

"Hey!" called a voice from behind me. I glanced back, forcing my face into a smile that didn't really want to show itself. A little girl was running from the swings of the playground I had just passed, her little pale hand clutching a huge yellow umbrella and her dark red pigtails swinging happily. "Are you okay?" Her voice was breathless, but cheerful. No one ever talked to me like that.

I thought for a moment behind my smile. I should lie. I should say I'm fine. I should say everything is great in my life. I should push her away from my problems, just as I have pushed everyone else away from me. I should have said and done all those things, but for some reason I couldn't. Maybe it was the rain…

"I'm sad," I whispered, my smile fading as quickly as it had come. Opening my eyes, I saw her looking at me like any mother would have. Any mother, perhaps, except for my mother.

What she did next was unexpected. She hugged me. What was more startling was that I hugged her back, all the while letting my tears flow down my cheeks once again. By the time she backed up, her hair was as wet as mine. I didn't realize it, but she had left her umbrella lying on the ground when she hugged me.

"My name's Mihara Chiharu. I'm six," she stated simply.

"Yamazaki Takashi. I'm six too."

"Do you want to play with me Yamazaki-kun?" I looked at her, thinking she must have confused me with some other Yamazaki nearby, but I knew no one else was close. She honestly wanted to play with me.

I nodded quickly, afraid to actually say anything, afraid that if I did I would wake up and find she was only another part of my dreams. If she was a dream, I really didn't want to wake up.

"Did you know that my favorite color is yellow?" she giggled as she led me to the swings, pulling off my cap along the way and waving it playfully. After that moment, I don't think I felt the rain for the rest of the night.

----------

Chiharu was still expounding on the dangers of lying to one's closest friends by the time lunch was over. Her voice rang out clear against the drone of the hundreds of other students in the room, just as it had rung clear that evening ten years ago, piercing the rain drops that had pounded the sidewalk. She had no idea just how much she meant to me, or how much she had changed my life when she caught my attention that night in the rain.


	2. Shot

**First Time for Everything**

Sakura sat in her room, fire extinguisher in hand. Her eyes were drooping and had ugly purplish circles under them. Occasionally she felt a little light headed, and then she would find herself drifting off to sleep, but inevitably a loud roaring sound would jar her from her rest, followed quickly by the feeling of intense heat. That was when the extinguisher would come into play. Soon, everything would be back to normal, except there would be one more scorched area of Sakura's bedroom.

"Kero-chan, would you _please_ let me take you to the doctor? I could pretend you are my cat or something and he could give you some medicine so you can get better," Sakura begged. _And then I'll be able to get some sleep without worrying that my house is going to burn down_, she added silently.

The little orange plushy look-alike just shook his head fiercely, sniffling and coughing simultaneously.

"Magical creatures don't get sick," he stated firmly, his Osaka accent turned strangely nasal from his clogged nose.

"Then what do you call what's happening?" asked Sakura wearily. This had to be the tenth time she'd had this conversation with him.

"An anomaly. It will pass."

"Kero-chan, I feel like I haven't slept in a week!"

"Someone could help you put out the fires, you know."

"No someone couldn't. The only person available is Syaoran, and you won't let him get within fifty meters of this room!"

"Damn straight! I don't trust you two together. Who knows what you… ACHOO!" Another ball of flames erupted from Kero-chan's mouth as he sneezed again, this time lighting Sakura's curtains on fire. Normally he couldn't shoot flames in his temporal form, but right now seemed to be an exception. Sakura whipped out the extinguisher once more and put out the flames.

"That's it. You are going to the vet!"

----------

"Uh, what type of animal did you say this was again?"

"He's my cat," Sakura stated in an unnatural deadpan voice. When Kero-chan was better she was going to sleep for a week. After she'd fixed her bedroom, that is.

"And the wings?" asked the vet tentatively as he eyed Kero's small wings with a sort of cautious curiosity.

"Practical joke. My onii-chan says the glue will wear off in a week." Kero huffed at that, but otherwise continued acting like a typical domesticated feline, even meowing occasionally for effect.

"And what did you say was wrong with, er…"

"Kero-chan," Sakura completed. "He's sneezing a lot. I think he caught a bug. Is there any medicine you can give him?"

"He's a cat you say?" the vet asked once again, still doubting that the orange creature in front of him was indeed a house cat. A failed science experiment, maybe, but not a cat. Sakura nodded, though, so he continued against his better judgment. "Well, there are these pills you could feed him every day – "

"Anything else?" Sakura cut him off quickly. "I really don't want to get near his mouth."

"Well, there's always a shot. I could give him a small booster of meds that should help cure the symptoms."

"Great! We'll take the shot."

----------

Kero's insides were squirming nervously. A shot? With a needle? What was this world coming to? First he gets a stupid cold and now he's about to get a shot? _I could die!_ he thought pessimistically. _The pain is going to be too great! My delicate yet stylish body will never be able to take it! How will I ever… ouch! What was that?_

"All done. Wow. You're cat has got to be the best behaved cat I've ever met. Not even a hiss."

_Hey, that wasn't so bad_, Kero thought. _I survived! I'm alive! I can do anything! I could take on that Supi-chan and kick his butt all the way to Kenosha!_

"Yeah, just don't give him sugar," joked Sakura as she carried a shocked Kero-chan out of the vet's office. "See, Kero-chan? The shot wasn't all that bad."

"Are you kidding! I was touch and go there for a moment! I swear I even saw the light!"

"Uh huh. So, do you feel any better?" Sakura worked hard to stifle a yawn.

"Oh yeah, I feel gre- ACHOO!" Sakura looked down at the scorched pavement.

"Damn plushy."

----------------------------------

Heehee... Kenosha. If you don't know where Kenosha is, it's in south-eastern Wisconsin, close to the Illinois border. Just fyi. The whole medical shot take on the shot card is rather random, I know, but I just thought it would be really funny if Kero-chan got a cold.


	3. Through

Alrighty... so here's number three of my card story one shots. This one is a bit more serious, though I'm not entirely sure why (you see, the idea came to me around 1 am and usually the ideas that hit me at that time of night are, well, insane). I'm getting to really enjoy delving into these characters' pasts. It's a good exercise for me. AND I just got a new laptop with nice new systems and SOUND (our old computer hasn't had sound for years... no I'm not joking) so updating on this site is a whole lot easier. I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Kaho/Touya (not romantically... give it a few years, and I kinda fudged the backstory of the series to fit my needs... hehehe)

Rating: G - angst

Card: Through (though not the same kind of 'through' as in the series... this one is all about emotions)

And no, I still don't own CCS or anything like that...

**

* * *

No Way Around**

The field overlooking the shrine remained unchanged. The tree hadn't disappeared by some weird feat of magic, the tall grass still swayed with every whim of the wind, and the shrine itself still stood silently, a tribute an era long forgotten. The same sun continued to beat down on his head, warming his dark, thick hair, though the warmth failed to penetrate farther than his skin. Closing his eyes against the brilliant midday glare, Touya felt gravity overcome him. He sunk quickly to his knees, not feeling the pain as his knee caps jarred against the dry ground, flattening the long blades of grass beneath him. He felt numb inside. Numb, chilled, and utterly confused, as if a November gale was violently whipping around inside of him and turning everything he once knew upside down. The world melted around him. It almost didn't seem as if he were a part of it anymore; everything seemed so surreal.

Time passed as if he were in a dream. Some moments rushed by him, while others dragged on for what seemed like eternity. All the while Touya remained in the field by the shrine, legs gathered underneath him. He wasn't sure at what point he stopped feeling anything below his knees, but it didn't really matter all that much to him. He felt no hunger, no discomfort; he ignored the breeze that played through his hair and the setting sun that marked the end of yet another day. The darkening shadow that bore his resemblance stretched itself until it reached the walls of the shrine itself. Soon it too would disappear from this world, swallowed up by the darkness of the night, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Night flowed into the world slowly, its darkness swallowing the last vibrant vestiges of the sunset like a growing nightmare. Still Touya could not find the will to move from his position. Lights twinkled from house windows. Behind those windows, Touya guessed he would find husbands and wives chattering and eating with their children, happily oblivious to the limited amount of time they would have to spend with each other. All things came to an end, especially those things which one doesn't want to end.

"It is true all things end, Touya-kun, but it is also true that endings are simply beginnings in disguise," a young woman walked up behind Touya, an old fashioned lantern held aloft in one of her hands. The grass sighed as she made her way over to the spot where Touya knelt. She reached out her free hand, briefly brushing the boy's shoulder gently. Her touch seemed to free him from his thoughts and he turned quickly to face her, wincing when the feeling came rushing back to his legs and feet.

"She loved your family's shrine, you know. She always said it was the one place she could go to find quiet," he whispered. It may have been a few weeks, but he still didn't trust his voice. Not when he was talking about her.

"Nadeshiko-san was -" the young lady began, her expressive eyes glassy in the moonlight.

"Don't Kaho-san!" Touya shouted, jumping up in anger. "Everybody says stuff like 'Nadeshiko-san was a sweet woman. We'll all miss her' or 'Your okaa-san was a great beauty. It's a pity she's gone' and I'm sick of it!" Touya went silent again, sinking back down to the ground. Kaho likewise knelt, her traditional robes folding elegantly around her. She could see by the weak moonlight that Touya was shaking; a rough sob escaped his lips. When he turned to face his friend, she could see the shiny trails his tears had left on his face. "Why is she gone, Kaho-san? Why did she have to be taken from us like this?"

"I couldn't tell you, Touya-kun, even if I knew the answer. Death is mysterious even to those of us with insight into such things, isn't that true?" Touya didn't answer and Kaho wasn't expecting him to. "Your otou-san must be very worried about you by now, don't you think." She managed to discern a slightly defeated nod from Touya at this. "You should get home. Let me walk you there."

"Thank you."

* * *

The walk home was silent save for the two pairs of footsteps that echoed off the houses of the sleepy neighborhoods of Tomoeda. Touya looked at each one of them, the numb iciness in his chest expanding with every sight of a family eating together or playing with each other. The feeling kept growing; when it reached his throat, Touya was almost certain he would choke on it. Instead, he forced out the words he'd been thinking about ever since that day. 

"What do I do now?" he whispered, half hoping Kaho wouldn't hear him. He wasn't entirely certain he wanted an answer.

"What have you been doing?" she replied just as quietly, but with an eternal calmness about her. Touya relaxed.

"Otou-san and I have been taking turns with dinner, and I get home as fast as I can so that Sakura doesn't have to spend a lot of time with the sitter. Otou-san buries himself in papers and stuff from the university and talks a lot about money under his breath, and I try and keep up on my school work, but it's hard. And I don't think Sakura really understands what's going on."

"It sounds like things could be worse."

"But the pain! It hurts, Kaho-san! It's like I live in dreams now; I don't know what's real. I don't even think she's really dead sometimes. It hurts to wake up in the morning. It hurts to smile in front of my friends when I want to cry. It hurts to see otou-san so sad. Everything hurts! Why won't it stop! Can't you make it stop?" By now Touya and Kaho had paused in their walk to Touya's house. Touya's face was again streaked with the now-familiar tears. It took all of her composure for Kaho not to break down and wail for her deceased friend along with Touya.

"There's no easy way out of this, Touya-kun. Death brings the pain of separation, which is possibly the worst pain a human can ever endure."

"Don't I know it," Touya mumbled, wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

"You have to work through the pain. There are no short cuts or magical remedies for this. Getting through the pain is the biggest challenge anyone can face, and how you deal with it will speak volumes of who you are as a person."

"Work through it? Is that the best you can say to me?" Kaho gave one of her small, mysterious smiles. For a moment, Touya forgot his numbness and felt a friendly warmth spread through him.

"Working through the pain is the best anyone can do, but remember this. You will never be alone. You have your otou-san, Sakura-chan, and you have me."

"Will you always be there for me?" Touya asked almost eagerly, boyish energy returning to his eyes.

"I'll be here as long as you need me."

* * *

The twosome reached the familiar yellow house. Like all the other homes on the street, lights glowed from the downstairs windows. From the outside, at least, it looked as if nothing had changed. A weary man opened the front door after he heard the doorbell ring. Happiness mixed with relief diffused across his face when he saw his son standing on the doorstep. The man scooped up Touya in a warm hug, profusely thanking Kaho all the while. 

"I am glad I could be of service, Kinomoto-san," she replied modestly. "Touya-kun just needed to straighten a few things out. If you ever need to talk, Touya-kun, you know where to find me." Waving slightly, Kaho walked gracefully away, her slender form fading into the night like a wisp of smoke.

"We'll get through this, I promise Touya." Touya hugged his father tightly, as if vowing never to let go of him again. "Nadeshiko wouldn't want us to fall apart now."

"I know. We'll work through this. As long as we're together."

* * *

A/N: Well, 3 down. That leaves only... 49 to go. Man, I really hope I don't run out of ideas. And remember: feedback is always welcomed, appreciated, and on rare occasions treasured. 


	4. Illusion

Hello again, and so soon at that. Yet another idea popped into my head almost right away, so here it is. It's so short it might even be considered drabble... but it was fun for my because I've never written anything about Sonomi before. As I've been saying, this experimenting is really getting fun!

Card: Illusion

Characters/Pairings: Sonomi; Fujitaka/Nadeshiko

Rating: G - angst

I don't own CCS and never will. End of story.

**

* * *

Façade**

She had been surprised when she saw the invitation in the mail. It couldn't be a wedding invitation; it was much too soon. Her worst suspicions had been confirmed upon opening it. She read the time, date, and location quickly, her eyes veiled in fury. How **dare** he propose so soon!

In the following days she learned it was to be a quiet ceremony; only close friends and family were invited. She was thankful that she fit into both categories. Nothing would have stopped her from coming, not even her intense dislike of the groom.

When she stopped to think about it (which had become a growing habit since the day the invitation arrived), the marriage seemed wrong on all levels. After all, weren't child brides supposed to be a thing of the past? Her belly twisted more each time she thought about the subject, filled with ferocious anger; he was taking her away from her friends, her family… everything the bride had ever known. She was only sixteen for goodness' sake! She still had most of high school ahead of her! How could he be so insensitive to her precious future!

The day of the wedding arrived, much to her chagrin. She sat through the ceremony, though, a small and pleasant smile pasted on her thin lips throughout the event. As much as she despised the whole thing, her most fervent desire was for her closest friend to have exactly what she wished for, even if it was a life with that soft-spoken, vaguely mysterious man who never failed to unnerve her.

Afterwards, she returned to the bride's family's house, one she knew all too well. She sipped her tea, ate the snacks, and made pleasant conversation with anyone who engaged her. She even made a brave attempt to congratulate the newlyweds. The burning, angry tears hiding behind her eyes threatened to spill, however, when she glimpsed the unadulterated loving happiness they shared when they looked at each other. The bride held onto her husband's hand tightly, but not in an immature, clinging way like most girls did at her age as she thanked her friend and cousin for being able to celebrate this special day with her.

All the love was enough to make her want to scream at the top of her voice and pull out all of her hair, but she miraculously refrained from doing so.

To everyone around her that day and many days after, she presented the illusion of the quietly pleased best friend and cousin, but on the inside she could feel nothing but anger towards the man who had stolen away her precious flower, Nadeshiko.

* * *

A/N: Another done... alrighty then. Reviews welcomed at any time! 


	5. Twisted

A/N: Written for the Tsukimine Shrine challenge of "Twisted":

Topic: Twisted  
Genre: Not FluffCanon: Optional  
Rating: G to PG-13  
Length: ±1000 words  
Special Requirements: Remember your OTP, and how it's so sweet and fluffy and pure? Yeah. Now write this pairing in a way that makes it dark, disturbing, or just plain wrong.

So here it is. Twistedness, rated T for adult situations though nothing explicit. Enjoy! And remember, same old disclaimers apply as always. Cardcaptor Sakura is not mine.

* * *

**Magnificent Oblivion**

_She said she would be with me forever. We pledged that to each other that day. People heard us say those words, people saw us exchange rings, people… they saw us… they watched us kiss. Never before had anyone watched us kiss._

_I remember her laugh, I remember her smile. I remember the warmth of her fingers as they trailed down my jaw after the kiss at the ceremony, and later that night down my back as we made love. I remember she was perfect, lying there in my arms. I remember the way she used to seem to float instead of walk, the lilt in her voice as she spoke, the way she held her chopsticks… I remember the songs she'd hum in the shower every morning. I remember her grace, her poise, her loving nature…_

_My problem is not remembering. My problem is forgetting._

_

* * *

_

It had been a beautiful spring, and that day was no exception. He didn't notice it though. The sun seeping in through the curtains into his dusty, book-filled office danced around his desk, playing lightly across the papers he was supposed to have graded for his class in fifteen minutes. Fujitaka groaned, raking his hand through his hair. He was already five days late getting back the papers; never before had he been so overdue with his grading. He always said that professors had a duty to get their students' work back to them as soon as possible, just as students had their own deadlines to meet for their professors. Lately, though, he'd been ignoring those rules he'd set for himself years ago. He'd been letting himself slip.

_I want to forget_.

He'd read all of the stories and seen all of the movies about men who'd drink themselves into oblivion simply trying to cope with the death of their wives. He vowed at the funeral, though, that he'd never stoop to being that type of man. Kinomoto Fujitaka would never be the type of man who would give up on reality just to find a little peace from the permeating ache he'd felt since the moment Nadeshiko died. It was easy to say that then, though, when the grief was still fresh and he was still ignorant as to how long the pain could last.

His existence dragged on, minute by minute, day by day, until one term ended and another one loomed on the horizon. Students' faces blurred together, their names just a jumble of kanji on their papers and his master lists. Even for his children he wasn't as present as he'd been before he lost Nadeshiko. To them and everyone else he was numb; he was numb to everything except the pain that never ceased, not even when he slept.

She haunted him. Her face, her voice, her touch, her scent… everything about her haunted him. He could feel her warmth next to him when he slept and the light brush of her lips on his cheek as he trudged to work in the mornings. In the bathroom in the morning it was her scent he smelled on the coils of steam that flooded the bathroom, not his own. When he got his breakfast in the mornings, it was her fingertips he felt brushing over his hands as he cut and poured. When he wandered in on his children after he arrived home at night, he could swear it was her voice he heard telling the stories that occupied their imaginations, not the sitter's.

_I'm going insane._

Having her so close yet at the same time so completely out of his grasp was maddening. The teases he caught of her became more and more real – even more so than the life he was living. Her face reflected in the mirror over his shoulder, her hand covering his as he walked through the park with his kids on the weekend, her hair tickling his face and neck as he lay alone in his cold bed… he lived for those moments while at the same time despising them for renewing the ache in his chest and the sting behind his eyes every day.

Even in the mornings he would wake up with a start, his mind still grasping feverishly at the wisps of dreams he knew she was in. He never remembered anything definite; as soon as he thought he had a grasp on a memory it would drift away. Pinning down clouds would have been a more worthwhile effort on his part than trying to glean more than teasing glimpses of his late wife.

_I can't do it anymore._

Ever since her death, he'd insisted on keeping up a picture of her so the children would know she was still there with them. One day he took it down while they were at school. Took it out of its frame and ripped it up. He couldn't look at her smiling face anymore, not when he hadn't truly smiled since that day.

The shards fluttered slowly to the floor like so many cherry blossoms at the end of spring.

As soon as he'd ripped it, he knew he'd done something he couldn't let anyone know about it. He cleaned up the scraps, hiding them away in a bag before he buried that bag in the garbage. Then he replaced the picture with another one. Different dress, different pose… same woman.

When the kids came home later, his son's raised brow when he saw the new picture was the only indication that either realized something was amiss. That night, he went to bed with the same ache he'd felt for all those months but it was coupled with the guilt of what he'd done and a hatred of himself that surpassed any hatred he'd ever felt in his life.

_She will be the death of me._

She never let him forget the act of blind desperation. Her touches became more teasing, giving him fleeting moments of sensations he could never share with her again; her laughter grew an edge of derisiveness. She was the last thing he sensed at night and the thing he woke up to in the morning. He could hear her voice mingled with those of his students as he taught, could smell her perfume as he walked down the street, and could feel her fingers grazing his jaw tantalizingly as they once did so many years ago.

He stopped answering the phone, knowing that he would always hear her voice taunting him on the other end for a split second before he would realize he was talking to someone else, someone living. He jumped when anyone approached him, turned wild-eyed when they touched his arm or shoulder to gain his attention; he always thought they were her. Eventually, he even threw out his old sheets, bought new soap, and even painted the bedroom a different color and rearranged the furniture. Nothing did any good. She was still there - in the carpet, in the walls, in the pictures, in the children, and more importantly, in him.

_I want her to leave me in peace._

_I need her to leave me in peace._

_Why won't she just let me forget?_


	6. Secret Santa

A/N: Challenge - Secret Santa!  
This was my Secret Santa present to clairechan, who determined the specifics of the story. This story is rated K+ for slight tipsyness. It's all legal though!

**Reminiscence**

_How did it come to this?_ Eriol thought, looking at the scene of chaos in front of him. It was supposed to be a simple pre-Christmas dinner, just a little get together with friends… but somehow…

"TOUYA!" screamed Nakuru excitedly as she flung herself across the table after her, actually, Eriol had lost count of how many glasses of egg nog she'd had. "I missed you SO much!" The object of her attention, Touya, cringed and attempted to flee the table, but only succeeded in knocking over his chair and himself along with it.

"Nakuru, please. Touya-kun and Yukito-kun are our guests. We wouldn't want them to be scared away, would we?" Nakuru, however, wasn't listening and continued to crawl over and through the dishes Eriol and Kaho had veritably slaved over for the past few days. _It could be worse. As long as Spinel hasn't found -_

"What are these, Eriol?" called out the voice of his other guardian, hovering over a platter of white dusted balls.

"Spinel, please don't eat…" but Eriol trailed off. Too late. Spinel had already popped a few of the treacle tarts into his mouth. _And the insanity will ensue in three… two… one…_

"IF ALL THE RAINDROPS WERE LEMON DROPS AND GUMDROPS…!" began Spinel at the top of his voice, his fragile-seeming wings carrying him all across the room like some sort of drunken butterfly. If there had been a brick wall nearby, Eriol would surely have been smacking his head against it at that very moment. How had pre-Christmas dinner with the guardians, his love, and two guests become the next generation of Barnum and Bailey's Circus!

"I think I'll go get the plum pudding," he mumbled and stood up.

* * *

Yukito watched the spectacle of pre-Christmas dinner at Eriol's house with great amusement. He hadn't enjoyed himself quite this much in a large group in a very long time. While studying abroad was fun and all, it got lonely at times being hundreds of thousands of miles away from the people he considered to be his family. 

Currently, a mildly tipsy Nakuru was trying desperately to glomp Touya, though Touya was having none of it and was doing his absolute best to keep at least the width of the table separating them. Kaho sat smiling softly next to Eriol, who was holding his head as if he had a headache. Meanwhile, Spinel was zooming around overhead singing some English song about candy and rain drops.

Not long after Spinel had started into his third verse of his song, Yukito watched as Eriol walked into the kitchen. Something about his gait struck a chord with Yuki, and with Yue for that matter. _We should go to him_, suggested the guardian, who, had he been the one physically present at the Christmas party and not Yuki, would have been scowling at all the noise and chaos.

_I suppose you're right_, Yukito thought back, and quickly got up to follow Eriol towards the kitchen. When he got there, he found Eriol frantically pouring water on a very charred looking object and muttering curses under his breath.

"This is the LAST time I try to make plum pudding!" he declared vehemently.

"If it helps, it at least smells nice," Yukito tried.

"If you like the smell of things burning, then yes, I suppose it would smell nice. I, however, prefer my plum pudding to be edible."

_Things could be worse,_ Yue drawled inside Yukito's mind. _There was this one Christmas…_

_Why don't **you** tell him this? You know him better. I'm sure you'd do a better job cheering him up_, encouraged Yukito, and relinquished control over his form for a short time.

"You know, Eriol-san, it could always be a lot worse," began Yue, his wings brushing the high ceiling of the kitchen and his long hair trailing over the floor.

"It could be? How?" Eriol replied dejectedly, not even bothering to acknowledge the switch made between the guardian's two forms.

"You have access to some of Clow's memories, right? Surely then you can recall that one Christmas the three of us celebrated in the English countryside?"

Eriol paused, the burnt plum pudding poised over the garbage. He racked his brain, trying to find the memory Yue spoke of. Suddenly it was there, playing out in his mind's eye with precise clarity. When it was over, he shuddered, and let the pudding drop into the bag.

"I take it you remember then?" Yue asked, trying to hide a smirk.

"Yes… what had Clow done to anger those villagers again?"

"I think he shrunk all their crops to the size of thimbles. Of course, being Clow he didn't bother to make them the original size again…"

"Ah yes. That would explain why they burst into the house with torches and sharp implements…"

"Yes, yes it would."

"It's a pity they burned the house down… as I recall, Clow was particularly fond of that house. Come to think of it, I think he was a little upset about losing the Christmas goose as well."

"It's also a pity Clow ended up being chased for a day and a night through the English countryside like some common criminal…"

"…And that he ended up wading through a marsh in the middle of winter. I seem to remember he found the sludge quite chilling."

"In short, things could be worse."

Eriol nodded in agreement, suddenly forgetting his annoyance that Nakuru had crawled through the yams or that Spinel could now be heard singing the sixteenth verse of his song, though the lyrics had long ago stopped making sense. Here they all were, together again in a house that was not under siege by angry peasants. Yes, it most certainly could have been a worse Christmas dinner.


	7. Escoba

A/N: A Secret Santa present for Tamchronin back at Tsukimineshrine. The prompt was Eriol & Syaoran (pairing optional) playing cards. So here the boys are, doing just that. Enjoy!

* * *

**Tricks**

"What the hell are these? These aren't playing cards!"

Eriol grinned. "Actually, they are exactly that. They just happen to be from Spain."

"Since when do you go to Spain?"

"Since I moved to Europe. You do remember that I moved to Europe, don't you? Yes?" He took the scowl and the rolled eyes to be a 'yes'. "Kaho and I had a lovely time in Barcelona, by the way. I'm sure she's already told Sakura-chan all about it -"

"Cut the crap. What are we playing?"

"_Escoba_. I assume I must teach you how to play?" Eriol started his explanation only after hearing an indistinct grunt. One of those days he was going to teach the child to speak using proper words, but that day wasn't today. "You should enjoy it, Syaoran-kun. It is a game bringing together cunning, wit, and mental agility all at once. It is, as they say, a game of tricks."

"Right up your alley, then isn't it?" Syaoran grouched, his mouth turned up in a wry smirk.

Eriol, however, kept on talking as if the smart remark had never left his friend's mouth. It obviously pressed Syaoran's buttons more if Eriol ignored him every so often, and even though he was actually an adult in the body of a pre-teen, that didn't mean his physical age didn't sometimes rub off on him. Like now. As he continued explaining the rules and objectives, he could practically _see_ the competitiveness radiating from the boy across from him.

As always, Eriol found the urge to laugh almost irresistible. Almost. But not quite. He had a strong feeling that his laughter might just land him in the hospital and he really didn't feel like going through those inevitable hassles at the moment.

"Shall we play?" His unspoken challenge hung in the air during the brief moment it took Syaoran to answer.

_Do you think you can beat me?_

"Yes."

* * *

"Loser has to run naked through the snow." Yes, Eriol admitted to himself, that was a little sick and extreme even for him. But the game was getting much too tense. In fact, he could see the crack Syaoran had made in the table top the last time he'd slammed his card down (unnecessarily, Eriol added). So this was his solution to the problem. 

"WHAT?!" Unfortunately, judging by the seven shades of red Syaoran was flushing at the moment, his ploy hadn't worked that well. "You can't be serious!"

"Afraid you're going to lose?" Eriol taunted, realizing that maybe his plan _had_ worked, just not in the way he'd thought. He certainly had thrown his opponent off his balance…

"No!"

* * *

He was a little ashamed to admit it, but he'd almost resorted to using some discrete magic. He hadn't though, because at the last minute his brain kicked into full gear and realized he had an escoba _and_ he could get all the sevens and thus beat out Syaoran by two points, but the memory of his momentary desperation still haunted him a bit. 

The memory didn't stop him from feeling the little swell of winner's pride as he watched Li Syaoran's pale figure sprinting away from him through the snow banks to the woods nearby, though. Not one bit.


End file.
